The Rose Garden
by ThyPenOrThySword
Summary: Various women speak, separately, about their husbands, divorce, and life to a mysterious stranger. Includes content by Ginny W., Hermione G., and Luna L.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not mine.

There was no heart-wrenching tragedy. There was no dull void of emotion left behind when all was spent. There was no fighting, raging, or counseling.

Sometimes, it just happens.

I got the papers while I was out to lunch with friends. Excusing myself for no more than five minutes, I read the terms and signed the papers officially declaring me, once again, Ms. Ginny Weasley.

You hear all sorts of statistics in the news, these days. Marriage rates are dropping, divorce rates are increasing, and old grandmothers everywhere mourn the loss of a time when only married men and women could live together.

I was married to Harry James Potter for twenty years.

It sounds like such a long time, but it wasn't. First there was the honeymoon, then a new house, then new jobs, then a new family. We were always busy. We were always busy being the perfect image of a happy family.

We had three darling children, not counting a godson, a beautiful house and the envy of all the wizarding world. We rarely fought, and when we did we forgive quickly after steamy makeup sex. We took our kids trick-or-treating, attended Sunday dinners with family, and hosted Christmas balls to rival those of the Malfoys.

So, where did it all go wrong? I honestly do not know. Maybe he has some answers. After all, he is the one who asked for the divorce.

That is not to say that I didn't want it. I was happy with my husband, but I knew, without any doubt, that I would be just as happy without him.

You are probably thinking, if I am so happy, why am I being so melancholy?

Being a hero's wife does that to you. You get into the habit of being reflective, of sitting on your own and thinking about you life. It also teaches you never to regret: I have seen too many women fall apart, overcome by wishes.

Go ahead. I am sure there are many reasons you can conjure up in that pretty little mind of yours about why our marriage fell apart.

We were adrenaline junkies who lost the passion. We were unable to relate on a personal level after the tragedy of the war. We were bitter and lonely. We were unfaithful to each other. I resented him for taking my career and independence away from me. We felt unfulfilled in life. We never loved each other.

Unfortunately for you, none of that is true.

We never lost the passion of our youth. We understood each other like no one else could. We found everything we needed in each other. We were always true to one another. I found peace in finally relaxing and settling down to raise a family. We were both content with the way our lives had become. We loved each other and always will.

We had the perfect life together; we still could have the perfect life together.

I think I understand better, now, talking to you, what went wrong.

We both had someone to die for, but neither of us had someone for whom to live. We would happily die for each other whenever it might be asked; we had done so in the past. But, we already had everything we could ever want. What was there to strive for?

We watched the people around us be challenged every day of their lives; their lives were built up and torn down with every tragedy and triumph that struck. Our lives remained stagnant on Cloud Nine.

Pathetic, isn't it? Our marriage fell apart because we were too happy. We had everything that the world around us was trying to gain, and we threw it all away.

No; I need to correct myself. We didn't throw it all away.

Everything that we had in our marriage is still with us today. We still care for our children, we still care for our family, and we still care for each other. We still discuss our children's futures, we still attend dinners as a family, and we still show up at each other's houses at two in the morning just because we felt like we should.

This may not seem normal to you, or even sane, but you should have known better than to show up at my doorstep if that was what you were looking for.

Any questions?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So, this story was a oneshot. I promise. If you want to ignore this update and continue to pretend it was a oneshot, feel free. Just to warn you, though, there may be more to come.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Still.

So, you want to hear our story? Well, here it goes:

They say that the world started with a bang, but will end with a whimper.

I don't believe this. I have always been a critic; I have always done my best to ignore the commonly accepted and strive toward what can be proven by fact.

If the facts of my marriage are anything like the facts of the world, then the world will certainly end with a bang - a loud, long-awaited, and resounding one at that. Everything will seem just fine, one day progressing into the next, tottering along over mountains and molehills alike, and then one day, when everyone least expects it, one of the molehills will explode. Just like that.

Boom.

And then everything will change. Home will no longer be home, life will no longer be life, and love will no longer be love. Everything will be thrown upside-down by the sheer, overwhelming magnitude of the blast.

And nothing will ever be the same again.

I know what you are thinking. Is this really Hermione Granger? The brightest witch of her age? The levelheaded and brainy voice of reason?

Yes. I am. I don't sound too levelheaded now, do I?

Excuse me. I have no reason to be rude.

After all, you have done nothing but show up uninvited in my home when I clearly have wards to keep just this sort of thing from happening. How did you even get in here?

Anyway, on with it.

I married Ronald Weasley within a year of graduating Hogwarts; true and everlasting love should never delay and all that jazz. We worked hard, earning the money to buy our dream house. We loved hard, finding in each other the power and strength to overcome every obstacle.

And then, one day, I snapped.

We were holding hands on Platform 9 ¾ , watching our children head off for another year at school. We joined the other parents in tearful well-wishes and mindful warnings of "I know your headmaster!" and then it happened. As I watched my youngest board the Hogwarts Express for the first time, I realized something.

I didn't want to be a mother. I truly, honestly, sincerely didn't. I didn't want to be a mother, I didn't want to be a wife, I didn't even want to be a fiancée or a girlfriend! I realized that I never had.

So, being the rational being that I always thought I was, I turned to my husband and calmly asked for a divorce.

He laughed.

Watching the students board the train and waving as it pulled out of the station, he cracked some long and idiotic joke about how the absence of children wouldn't ruin our lives.

All I could do was wonder at what foul demon had possessed me that I had not only married this man, but I had born him children and thought myself happy! A bit hysterical, I started to laugh as well. Right there on the platform.

When most of the platform was empty and I was still standing there suppressing the shakes that rattled through my body, he turned to me and asked if I was alright.

Alright? Was I alright? I had wasted how many years of my life on him? I could have been doing something with myself. I could have been attending university, advancing a career in the ministry, or, Merlin's balls, I could have been discovering the cure to cancer! Instead I was wasting my essential youth on a man who couldn't even tell when his wife was having a fit of

hysterics.

I mean, honestly.

So, I went to the ministry that afternoon and picked up two copies of the necessary divorce papers. Then I went to our house and, while he was still at work, packed up all my belongings. By six that evening I was living in a new apartment and there were half-completed divorce papers on his kitchen table.

I thought I was free.

Those papers sat on his kitchen table for five years, exactly as I had left them.

When he finally got around to signing them, we entered another five years of legal battles. You would that that because I wanted less than half of our assets and minimal responsibility for our children it would have been easy, but it wasn't. First he insisted that I explain myself, and then we went through counseling, then therapy. Nothing worked, of course, but he refused to stop trying. Even after our marriage that man wasted ten years of my life.

Do I hate him?

Does the beast hate the cage?

What do you think?

The media tore me apart. Called me heartless, called me selfish, called me spoiled. After a few years I stopped reading the newspaper, followed by the radio. Soon I stopped speaking to my coworkers, and soon enough I stopped showing up for work all together.

That is when I started creating. In my isolation I found the freedom to think, to discover. I read to my heart's content, absorbing the information and transforming it into something new and beautiful.

Now, at least if I go down in history as a terrible woman, at least I will also go down as one of the finest minds in history.

I have written books. I have created spells in potions. I have developed methods for doing things previously thought impossible.

I have changed the world.

The world, marriage - who cares how it ends? The simple truth is that it will. And once it is over, and the cosmic dust begins to settle, and a star soon emerges from the destruction and filth.


	3. Chapter 3

I hear you have already spoken to both Ginny and Hermione. How you managed to talk to those two is beyond me.

What? Shocked I know who you are? Do you think I make a practice of letting strangers into my house?

It amazes me – the sheer stupidity of some people. I may be a bit loony, but I didn't survive a war on luck alone, hon.

Anyway, I am not the type of person you want to interview. My husband is dead, and the world thinks I am completely around the bend.

Still interested?

Or is there something else you want to know?

I should have known. The look in your eyes tells all.

You want dirt and figured I was the only one crazy enough the spill the secrets of some of the most private people in the wizarding world.

Well, you won't get anything out of me.

Why, yes, I did just stick my tongue out at you. Get over it.

I could blame it on the wrackspurts if you'd prefer.


End file.
